


Saved

by heyyitslaurennn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, F/M, Fluff, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Love at First Sight, No Smut, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyyitslaurennn/pseuds/heyyitslaurennn
Summary: Reader is rescued from her abusive boyfriend by her Avenger friend and promptly falls hard for another certain brooding, metal-armed Avenger.





	Saved

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeyyy y'all! So I was inspired by quite possibly onr of the most beautiful photos of Sebastian that I've EVER seen, and here I am with a oneshot that I literally pulled out of thin air :D this is different than my usual smutty stuff, but I thought it was cute as hell so here we are. Enjoy!

You trudged sleepily out of the elevator and into the employee cafeteria on the ground floor of the main compound building. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you mumbled your order of bacon, fried eggs over medium and toast to the attendant and scooted down the line, plucking a chocolate milk carton from the bed of ice before paying and finding an empty table.

 

 

 

You set your tray down and shuffled over to the coffee kiosk, topping off the biggest paper cup they had with dark roast and dumping in several creamers and sugar packets before returning to your food.

 

You collapsed back into the uncomfortable metal chair and dug in. Last night had been a complete nightmare. In fact, the entire last week had been about the same. You lost your job and then were promptly beaten to a pulp by your shitbag boyfriend--well, now exboyfriend--upon returning to your dilapidated apartment newly jobless. If it hadn't been for your close friend, Sam Wilson, you wouldn't be sitting in the Avengers compound and, well, you might even be dead.

 

You called him as you hid in the bathroom while your ex refueled his rage with more bourbon, and he had damn near kicked the bathroom door in by the time Sam came to your rescue, wings and all. He pummeled your dirtbag ex before calling the police and whisking you away to the safety of the highly secured compound. 

 

"I don't even know how to thank you," you said meekly as he showed you your new living quarters, right next to his room.

 

"Thank Stark tomorrow," he smiled as he spoke, placing a reassuring hand on your bicep. "He has a new job for you, too. You'll speak with him tomorrow morning."

 

And here you were, fresh from your job interview with Iron Man himself, dressed in a rather worn robin's egg blue button up and a black pencil shirt. You were too afraid that your strained ankle would give out if you wore heels, so your feet currently adorned modest black flats with little blue bows.

 

You'd actually managed to cover up most of the multicolored bruises that littered your flesh, most of them on your upper arms and ribs but you did have a pretty ugly black eye and a split upper lip, which tried to reopen each time you shoveled food into your mouth, but _God_ you were starving so you didn't care.

 

You sighed and fought back tears as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Thankfully, the job that Tony had given you was something you were familiar with, a boring desk job that you were all too happy to accept, and he had given you a week to get your things and completely move into the compound. The physical and emotional pain was still very fresh, so you appreciated the time off.

 

You pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose and steeled yourself enough to glance around the cafeteria, avoiding eye contact with several other employees, before glancing back down--

 

_Wait_. Your eyes flew back up to about twenty feet in front of you, and met the crystal blue-gray eyes of the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. He sat with his tray piled high with bacon, but he evidently had no interest in eating. Well, maybe not his breakfast... He sat somewhat hunched over, elbow on the table, chin and cheek resting in his palm, and he was staring right at you with the most adorably dopey grin on his beautiful face. 

 

You blushed and quickly averted your eyes and you would have bore a hole through your table with your stare if you could, but you braved a peek and yep, he's still staring. You smiled and he smiled bigger. His gaze was soft and inviting and shoulder-length brown hair fell around his face. His jawline was perfect and the sharpest you'd seen in your life, dusted with just the right amount of scruff, and he was _oh so thick_ that he appeared he might burst right out of the black t-shirt he wore. Your gaze traveled down his neck and over his left shoulder, tripping over each plate of his metal arm, which you found intriguing and strangely arousing. You looked back down at your food before you began drooling all over it, but _fuck_ was he sexy.

 

Unable to bear his eye contact any longer, you inhaled the rest of your food and made to stand with your empty tray. As you dumped your trash and placed your tray on the tray return stand, you chanced a glance back at the beautiful man and _Jesus Christ_ , he must not know the meaning of subtlety because he is still staring! You bit your bottom lip as you wagged your fingers at him and scurried out, face and neck red as a tomato.

 

You spent the morning washing your one garbage bag of clothes you were able to bring in such a hurry the night before, and you couldn't stop thinking of the man with the metal arm. You'd seen some good looking guys in your time, but you figured he must be a demigod or something because he sure as hell looks like one.

 

But what confused you was the way he watched you. You were nothing special, so what exactly did he see that you just can't pinpoint about yourself?

 

"You know we have people to do that for us," a voice startled you out of your reverie as you sorted your laundry.

 

You whirled around to see Sam, leaning against the doorframe, smirking with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

 

"Yeah, well," you muttered, waving your hand vaguely in the air, "you know me..."

 

"Always the 'if you want something done right, do it yourself' girl," he acknowledged with a small nod.

 

You smiled and returned to your sorting. "Cap put a rush order on his indictment," he continued, and you heaved a relieved sigh. 

 

You turned and flashed the Falcon a watery smile. "Thanks, Sam. For everything."

 

"You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you called me when you did before it got any worse." He turned to leave, but a question shot forth to the front of your mind.

 

"Sam?" He stuck his head back into the doorway. "Who's the guy with the metal arm?"

 

He smiled knowingly and stepped back into view. "That's just Barnes. Been here a couple months, he's one of us. That asshole really had you living under a giant boulder, didn't he?"

 

"Not even basic cable," you frowned.

 

Sam shook his head in disapproval before bidding you a "see you later".

 

The next day, after being escorted to your old apartment by both Captain America and thr Falcon to retrieve your belongings, you had a little extra bounce in your step as you strode into your communal kitchen to look for some lunch.

 

In your short stature, you found yourself reaching for a jar of crunchy peanut butter that sat on a shelf too high for you to reach. Sighing in defeat, you gave up and stepped back to head for the fridge when you smacked into what felt like a solid brick wall.

 

You froze, nearly panicking until you watched a familiar metal arm reaching above you. "Sorry," a gravelly, and overly sexy, voice mumbled behind you as the arm placed the peanut butter on the counter in front of you. You whipped around and your jaw dropped. "Sometimes I forget how tall I am." He smiled down at you timidly.

 

Your wide eyes raked down his body, which was solely covered by a pair of sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips, and his broad chest and arms glistened with a sheen of sweat that must have meant he'd been training. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze followed his toned abs, down to his Adonis belt until it disappeared beneath his pants, that is, until he cleared his throat.

 

You gasped and looked away, blushing crimson. "T-thank you," you stuttered, quickly pulling the loaf of bread to you, distracting yourself and completely missing the knowing smirk that graced his features.

 

"I haven't seen you around," he observed. 

 

"Yeah, Sam brought me here... Well, he sort of rescued me..." You trailed off as you turned once more to look at him, shoving your glasses back up your nose before reaching down to toy with the hem of your shirt. You snuck a glance up and found him frowning. 

 

Your breath hitched when his flesh hand suddenly rose up, close to your face, as he slowly pulled your glasses off. It was then that you realized you hadn't put on any makeup, so that angry yellow and brown bruise around your right eye was on full display. "Who did this to you?" He asked softly, his brow furrowed.

 

You frowned, immediately blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes. "My boyf-- _ex_... My ex."

 

You watched his jaw clench as he exhaled harshly through his nose. "And he's been... Handled?" You nodded. He pursed his lips and went to put your glasses back on himself. Your breath caught in your throat again when his fingertips brushed against your cheek. "Don't worry, doll. I hit bad guys and punching bags, not beautiful women." He smiled and went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water before strutting out of the kitchen, leaving you a wobbly anxious mess. That nickname had your heart beatboxing in your chest and suddenly you needed to go for a run.

 

The next time you saw him, you were running laps around the compound, dressed in a simple black sports bra and jogging shorts, long hair up in a ponytail as you enjoyed the cool breezy weather. Your earbuds were crammed into your ears and you drowned out the calm and quiet with the harsh guitar riffs and aggressive double bass drums of Starset. 

 

Although Sam had tried his damnedest to convert you, you were a metalhead through and through. It's what motivated you to get into shape when you were at your lowest, and it helped you get through some traumatic times. You loved it.

 

You slowed to a stop under a tree to hide from the sun rays currently peeking through the thick cloud coverage and fell back against it, the rough bark pressing into your flesh as you yanked out your earbuds and took in huge gulps of air. You hadn't meant to overwork yourself, but something about that man... Well, _everything_ about him...

 

Speak of the devil. "I'm beginning to think you're following me," he called teasingly as he approached you on the jogging path, grinning widely as he stopped in front of you.

 

"The same could be said for you," you countered.

 

"Fair point," he shrugged, and you could swear you saw a tint of pink across his cheeks. At least he had the decency to put on a shirt so you weren't completely reduced to a pile of goo, albeit the shirt was tight enough to accent every single one of his muscles. 

 

Meanwhile, he couldn't help but admire your toned physique, from your ample breasts, gaze traveling downward and stopping at the rather large wisteria tattoo that adorned your ribcage and disappeared beneath your shorts at your hip, all the way to your long, muscular legs.

 

"I never got your name," he said, and you snapped yourself out of yet another daze that was entirely his fault. You gave him your first name shyly.

 

He grinned wider, that billion-watt smile he flashed you with that first day in the cafeteria, and held out his flesh hand. "I'm Bucky."

 

*******************************************

 

The rest of the week flew by and you were slowly growing closer to the Avengers, Wanda especially, as you had never really had girl friends... Or friends at all, no thanks to that asshat you once called your boyfriend.

 

That first day at your new job finally arrived and Pepper Potts herself showed you to your office. _Your office_. You'd never had a whole room to yourself at work before and you screamed internally as you excitedly looked around your office space. You were to replace Pepper's assistant while the girl was on maternity leave, and upon her return you would be given another job. 

 

Pepper was a sweet, but stern woman. Although she was being patient with you, you were somewhat intimidated by her. Probably the fact that she was the real, final voice behind Iron Man. 

 

Once she left you on your own, you dove headfirst into her itinerary. Before you could blink, it seemed, it was almost 3pm and your stomach was growling angrily at you. Just as you picked up you cell phone to browse some nearby takeout menus, there was a soft knock on your office door. 

 

There stood Bucky, smiling nervously with a takeout box in his hand. "I uhh, didn't see you at lunch and thought..." He blushed and trailed off.

 

You beamed at him and ushered him inside. He handed you the box and stood behind the chair you'd hoped he would take a seat in. He looked exceptionally handsome today, donning a dark blue henley with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a sinfully tight pair of black jeans. His hair was pulled back into a small bun low on the back of his head and you just wanted to shove him back against your office door and kiss him.

 

You finally shook your thoughts back into focus and thanked him meekly, opening the box and going wide eyed at the amount of food he brought you. "You planned on helping me eat this, right? Because there's no way I'll finish all this."

 

"If you want me to," he removed a pack of plasticware from his pocket and placed it in front of you, just as you had finished rummaging through a drawer and found an identical pack. 

 

The two of you ate in silence for a few minutes before you just couldn't take it anymore. "Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked softly. 

 

He looked up and his eyes seemed to go unfocused, as if looking right through you while he pondered your question, searching the depths of his mind for an appropriate answer, and then he smiled. "So did Sam tell you about movie night? It's my night to pick, but I'll let you pick if you want." Avoiding the question. _Smooth_.

 

You chuckled through a mouthful of food and swallowed, not missing the way his eyes followed the motion of your throat. "Do you always deflect questions like that?" He leaned back and threw his hands behind his head, watching you, as if he was waiting for something, with that same dazed look in his eyes that you saw that first day. You raised an eyebrow. "The silent brooding type, I see. Okay, I'll bite."

 

"I sure hope so," he drawled and he fucking _winked_ , lips stretching into that gorgeous grin again. You choked on your water and tried to regain some semblance of composure while his eyes danced with mirth. "I'll see you later, doll," he said as he stood to exit your office, leaving you completely speechless. That's it. You had to learn more about this guy.

 

After your work day ended, you decided to stay and browse the internet for anything you could find on this Bucky Barnes character. If you were going to continue to drool over this guy, you needed to know more about him, but obviously you didn't want to give literally everyone the third degree.

 

After spending about an hour reading up on his history as a fallen WWII soldier and time as the Winter Soldier forced upon him by Hydra, you saw all you needed to see and left the office.

 

As soon as you got to your room, you changed into a thin tank top and your most comfortable pair of pajama pants and made your eay into the living area. Several Avengers were already gathered, including Bucky, who lit up as soon as he saw you walk in. "There she is," he chirped, holding out his flesh hand to you and guiding you around the couch to where they kept their large selection of movies. "Y/N is picking tonight."

 

Not half an hour into Return of the Jedi (which hilariously confused the hell out of Steve) you found yourself on the smaller couch next to Bucky, who seemed to keep inching closer and closer to you until his firm thigh was pressed up against yours. You couldn't keep yourself from glancing down and wondering if he was doing it on purpose, until he nudged you with it. You looked up and found him staring at the tv but smirking. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

 

Suddenly you found yourself standing up and walking to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. You popped the cap off and turned around, nearly colliding with that muscular brick wall again. "Jesus, Bucky," you chuckled, placing your palm to his chest.

 

But what you weren't prepared for was him placing his flesh hand over yours, his eyes soft as he looked down at you.

 

You steeled yourself for what you were about to say next. "I read about you... On the internet." His brow furrowed and his hand dropped to his side as he looked at the floor. You stepped closer, invading his personal bubble. "Your past doesn't define who you are now, Bucky. You have to know that."

 

"Then why did you look?" He asked, hurt clear in his voice.

 

"I was curious," you shrugged. "I just escaped my own hell. I wondered if we might share some life experience in some way... Turns out we do." Without so much as a glance at you, he turned to leave. "Hey," you called softly, grasping his metal hand in yours and turning him back to you. "You know you never answered my question." You smiled warmly at him.

 

He seemed taken aback by your statement, as if to wonder why the hell you would still want to even be near him, let alone speak to him after what you read about him. "What?" 

 

"Why have you been so nice to me?" 

 

He chewed his lip as he regarded you, having noticed your black eye was gone. He sighed and began, "Because I know what it's like to be alone. To have horrible things done to you. I..." He paused and screwed his eyes shut, his chest heaving twice as he reached out with both hands to cup your face. "I like you. I see you, Y/N. You're absolutely beautiful, and any man that tries to take that away from you isn't a man at all."

 

You closed your teary eyes and grasped his wrists, desperate for something solid to hold onto before your knees gave out. How were you so entranced by him in such a short amount of time? 

 

"Hey," his thumb swiped across your cheekbone, ridding your flesh of tears. You opened your eyes and exhaled the breath you hadn't realized you were holding, gazing into the deep ocean behind his caring eyes. "Say somethin', sweetheart." He looked apprehensive, almost frightened of your response.

 

You blinked your tears away and gave him a watery smile. "Do you... Wanna go get some dinner? Ice cream? Anything?" You asked with a nervous chuckle.

 

He barked out a nervous laugh, relief washing over him. "Well that's the first time a dame has ever asked me out."

 

"Well," you took one small step closer, tentatively wringing your fingers into the sides of his shirt, "I like you too, Bucky. Regardless of your past."

 

He thanked you by surging forward and smashing his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss as your hands traveled from his ribcage to his back so you could pull his body closer. The kiss was electric, sending shockwaves through both you and him, and he was just about to pry your lips open when you both heard a cough from the doorway.

 

The two of you regretfully parted and found Natasha leaning against the doorframe, smirking. "Don't mind me," she quipped before heading for the fridge, Sam coming in right behind her.

 

"Really, guys? Get a room!" He groaned as he walked back out, mumbling something about not even wanting a beer anymore. 

 

"Oh he'll be getting much more than that," you called loudly after him without breaking eye contact with Bucky, gleefully watching his stare go from shocked to downright devious before he dragged you off toward his room.


End file.
